3rd Day of Flocktime, 565 CY
Drachensgrab Hills, The Pomarj
Cygnus had always had a strong suspicion that getting punched out somehow hurt a lot more if you weren't able to hear yourself cry out when it happened.
When the mailed fist struck again, this time hitting him in the stomach so hard the mage doubled over in agony, he knew he'd been right.
The wizard's mouth hung open in a silent scream, and his eyes were scrunched up so tightly that they burned.
The blows continued. Cygnus instinctively tried to back away, but his foe stayed with him.
A cloud of dust rose up off the packed earth as Argo Bigfellow and his hobgoblin attacker hit the ground.
The ranger coughed and tried to clear his eyes. By the time he did, the humanoid was straddling him. One hand grasped Bigfellow's throat, while the other was drawing a serrated dagger from a shoulder sheath. The hobbie held his upper body upright, just out of Argo's reach. He snarled at the human, but no fear showed on his victim's face.
The dagger came down.
Argo intercepted the creature's wrist with his left hand and with a quick twist, snapped it.
Having the strength of an ogre sure comes in handy, the ranger thought to himself. I'm beginning to understand why Aslan does it so often.
Not having to shut out the hobgoblin's scream due to the silence field also helped Bigfellow as the ranger's right hand pried the weapon loose from the humanoid's now useless grip. The ranger's left hand now latched onto the hobbie's upper arm and used the leverage to pull his opponent downwards.
The dagger came up.
Despite her dire predicament, Nesco Cynewine was more annoyed than anything.
For some reason, the fact that her attacker had used the cover of an invisibility spell to sneak up on her bothered the ranger. As the hobgoblin grappled with her, trying to overbear her down to the ground, Nesco could only think that it seemed tremendously unsporting.
Not like, say, having magically enhanced strength.
Her fist smashed into the creature's face, squashing its already flattened nose even further. It roared mutely and staggered back a few step but was already drawing its longsword out of its scabbard.
Nesco considered her options. Both her shield and her sword were currently strapped across her back, and her dagger was embedded in the throat of a dead hobgoblin back in the fortress. Her opponent certainly didn't look like he intended to give the ranger the space she needed to draw and use her bow.
Oh, well.
Time to use your head, Cynewine, she thought.
Nesco bent low and came in under the hobbie's swing. Her head glanced off its shield but still managed to connect solidly with its stomach.
As their situation reversed itself, with the human now trying to overbear the hobgoblin, it was hard to say which one was hurting more.
Talass was in trouble.
The cleric's warhammer lay on the ground, having been unceremoniously ripped out of her hand by her attacking hobbie.
She was already sporting a new bruise on her right cheek, courtesy of a vicious right hook from said assailant.
Talass' right arm was caught fast. The hobgoblin held it in a vise-like grip.
And being immersed in the silence field made the use of any prayers a moot issue.
The priestess looked around. Talass was usually loath to seek assistance from her compatriots in combat, but things were not going well at all.
Her friends were all engaged, however. The only figures not yet involved in combat were the horde of reinforcement hobgoblins charging up.
Talass stole a quick glance at the statue lying on the ground. The statue that had once been her husband.
I'm glad you won't feel anything when they kill you, she thought sadly.
In fact, Talass' plight had not gone unnoticed.
Yanigasawa Tojo, unable to shout at his opponent, scowled at him instead.
The hobgoblin didn't seem to notice this. It was concentrating all its energy on keeping that katana from slicing into its flesh. The hobbie wasn't quite sure how the samurai had managed to draw his sword despite being grappled, but it had seen Icar wield his katana enough to know what it could do.
Tojo spared one more look over at Talass and then turned back to his attacker. Relinquishing his grip on his katana with his left hand, the samurai quickly grabbed hold of what he seen earlier- one of this particular hobgoblin's long braids of hair. As he yanked down, Tojo's left knee rose up with astonishing speed to meet the side of the hobbie's rapidly descending head.
The blow was not fatal, but it did cause the hobgoblin to relinquish his grip on Tojo's katana.
Fatality soon followed.
Zantac really didn't like hand-to-hand combat.
The red-robed wizard was currently hunched over, trying to protect his face from taking any more of a beating. He also held his pot close to his body, like it was a precious jewel. At this point, bereft of offensive spells or weapons, Zantac considered it to be his only hope.
The hobgoblin that had been assaulting him apparently had the same idea. With a silent snarl, it rocked Zantac's chin back with a backhanded slap, and then grabbed hold of the iron pot.
Well, that wasn't too smart, Zantac thought as he watched the hobgoblin scream without a sound and fling the pot away before trying to blow on its burned and blistered hands. On the other hand, as he watched the last of the hot grease within spill out onto the dusty ground as the pot stopped rolling, he pretty much had no weapons whatsoever left now.
He did, however, still have his legs.
Zantac took off at a dead run across the parade grounds, the hobbie at his heels.
As Cygnus was being crushed in a massive bear hug from in front, he felt his feet leave the ground. A groan was forced out of his lungs as he again stared into the malevolent eyes of the half-orc.
It took the magic-user's brain an additional moment to register the fact that his ears had heard his own groan.
Kairn had carried him out of the silence field. As the partial cover of the wooden overhang appeared overhead, Cygnus realized that he was back inside the inner courtyard. He tried to shape his hands into fists and try to pummel his attacker, but he was dazed and in so much pain that they weren't responding.
The mage had a brief glimpse of hobgoblins pounding past him, heading in the opposite direction. The half-orc barked out orders at them as they passed, but he spoke in goblin, so Cygnus couldn't understand them.
Suddenly he was flying backwards, and then Cygnus landed on his back with so much force that he blacked out for a split-second.
When he regained consciousness, the half-orc was straddling him. Both of Cygnus' wrists had been firmly grasped and placed over his own throat. The grip his attacker had on him was so strong, Cygnus knew he was going to pass out again from the pain, and probably within a manner of seconds.
His brain clamored for it, promising a sweet release.
Kairn leaned in close.
"What's the matter, wizard?" he hissed in Common. "Can't cast your little spells anymore?"
Cygnus gasped and looked up, past his assailant's head. He could see a few stars, pale and washed out in the cool light of the moons. He could see the dark, leafy shadows of the trees that went up through the overhang. A long thin object moved into his field of view- the silhouette of a massive sword strapped to his attacker's back.
For a moment, it all looked oddly peaceful.
Then he tried to breathe.
Cygnus's body began spasming as his lungs struggled for oxygen. He could feel his eyes bulging. This half-orc was choking him to death, and he could only think of one insanely impossible thing he could do about it.
And that one thing had a very good chance of killing him.
For some reason, that thought didn't bother him anymore. Even as his body was approaching death in agony, his mind had achieved a disconnect. A profound calmness settled back over him. Cygnus was ready to die. He'd already cheated death more than the most reckless adventurer could ever hope for.
Should have asked Talass for one of those strength spells. Ah, well. I look forward to meeting you, Lord Odin. I have quite a few questions for you, but only one request. Please look after my friends, and especially my son.
When I got home, I was going to bring him back and tell him how much I loved him.
The wizard grimaced and threw his last reserves of energy into one single action.
Moving his left wrist a distance of about one inch, just enough so that his left fist was pointing up at Kairn.
Cygnus' own voice sounded strange to him as he gazed into his attacker's eyes. It was a rough, raspy sound, seemingly from very far away.
"I'll... let you... have this."
The half-orc's eyes shot over to the magic-user's left hand, and the glittering but plain ring on it.
Kairn smiled, revealing a mouth full of yellow, crooked teeth.
"Trying to buy me off, wizard?" He shook his head condescendingly, his smile growing even wider. "You can't fool me. That's not Icar's ring."
Cygnus couldn't even nod with his head, only his eyes.
"I know," he croaked.
Somehow, he managed the smile.
It just wouldn't have been the same without the smile…
"Still going... to... let you... have it."
Nesco's head whipped around at the first flash of light.
From her current angle, the ranger couldn't see very far inside, but from the verdant interior of the inner courtyard came two more flashes from some type of explosions. Lady Cynewine could of course hear nothing, but she could feel the subtle wave of pressure from the shockwaves.
She frowned. Some remote part of her brain had an idea what that might have been, but she just couldn't-
The hobgoblin that she had managed to knock down to the ground with a well-placed haymaker suddenly grabbed her ankle and yanked.
Whoa, she mouthed into the silence.
Nesco landed hard on her butt, just about her only body part that hadn't been hurting up to this point. She snarled and launched a solid kick right into the hobbie's jaw, sending its head slamming into the ground and putting its lights out.
There was no time to kill the creature, however. More hobgoblins would be upon her shortly.
It was only as Nesco was painfully rising to her feet and unstrapping her sword did she realize that her strength spell had worn off.
She would have closed her eyes in grief, if she could have spared the moment.
Even if we escape, Elrohir's not coming with us, she thought.
Argo Bigfellow was also painfully aware of being at normal strength again.
The ranger was now back on his feet as well, Harve in hand.
The ranger had hurled the serrated dagger, now dripping with blood, at the nearest charging hobbie. The weapon hadn't really been balanced for throwing however and had merely bounced off.
Over the heads of the onrushing mob Argo caught a glimpse of Zantac. The Willip wizard seemed to be pretty much running in a large circle, with irregular detours for evasive maneuvers that had little effect. A hobgoblin was doggedly chasing him. The creature was carrying a sword, but for some reason kept tossing it from one hand to the other, as if it hurt to hold the weapon for any length of time.
Bigfellow took a deep breath as the humanoids came up. One launched himself immediately at Argo with a sword swing, which Harve parried.
The big ranger frowned, even as he settled into his battle routine. He had expected to be surrounded by hobgoblins, but the rest of the group had rushed right past him. He turned his head to see where they were heading.
Talass could hardly see anymore.
One eye was swollen shut from the savage beating this hobgoblin was inflicting upon her. It was almost literally holding the cleric up by her right hand, which it held as high up in the air as it could. Talass' feet only occasionally brushed the ground as the humanoid pounded her again and again.
The priestess of Forseti didn't want to give up, but nothing she had tried was working. Currently, she was pulling and prying at the hairy hand that was holding her aloft. It was in vain, though. The creature was just too strong.
Wait a minute, Talass thought suddenly. Just how strong are you?
The cleric suddenly pulled her feet up as high as she possibly could. The creature's grip held, dropping only an inch or two.
Talass eyed her attacker as best as she could.
Hold that pose!
Both feet shot out, slamming square into the humanoid's stomach. It gasped, staggered back a step, and then dropped her.
Uh oh, Talass thought on the way down.
The impact momentarily stunned her. Gasping for breath in the midst of a temporary dust cloud, she could just barely make out her opponent, currently doubled over. Its mouth was moving, undoubtedly spewing out curses no one could hear.
Talass could relate.
The priestess looked around frantically for her warhammer, but between the dust and her currently distorted field of view, couldn't see it.
She did, however, see the hobgoblin straighten back up, draw its sword and advance towards her. Its face was twisted in a mask of absolute fury.
Talass began scooting backwards frantically on her rear, glancing around desperately for anything that could help her.
Or anyone.
Blood spurted over Tojo as the hobgoblin fell.
The Nipponese warrior glanced down. Three of the hobbies now lay dead or dying at his feet, but more were coming.
And for some reason, most of the new arrivals seemed to be coming directly at him.
A grim smile passed over the samurai's face.
It vanished however, as he saw Talass, about fifteen feet away, clumsily trying to back away from her current attacker.
Tojo began to move towards her, and then stopped.
His eyes narrowed to violet slits.
What is he doing?
Talass' sudden relief that Tojo had spotted her had just as quickly evaporated.
The samurai seemed to be gazing intently at her, rather than at the hobgoblin attacking her.
Then he put away his katana.
Tojo!
Talass had forgotten about the silence field in her panic. Her shout was useless.
She rolled to her left just as the hobgoblin's sword came slicing down.
The blade gouged a divot out of the packed earth instead of the cleric's body that had been there a moment before.
As her surroundings whirled about her, Talass caught another brief glimpse of Tojo. The samurai was now drawing his wakizashi from its sheath.
Please, Tojo, Talass prayed, trying to keep an eye on both the hobbie and her fellow human. Don't get all weird on me now!
Without warning, the samurai suddenly hurled his short sword.
At Talass.
The cleric hadn't forgotten about the silence field, but that didn't matter anymore as her mouth opened again reflexively in what she was sure would be her last scream.
The blade stopped in mid-air, about five feet from her.
Talass blinked.
She could spare the time for nothing else. Her attacker's sword dug through her chainmail armor as she managed to scramble to her feet. The wound may not have been a mortal one- at least, she didn't think it was, but she again threw an unheard cry of pain into the uncaring silence as the blade sliced into her right hip. She did manage to get her bearings and saw that the hobbie was now also staring at the wakizashi.
The short sword seemed to be quivering as it hung in the air.
Blood started to appear near the hilt and drip to the dusty ground.
And suddenly, Tojo was there.
Talass' attacker turned around just in time for Tojo's katana to bury itself halfway into its neck. The cleric watched as Tojo pulled hard, finally managing to yank his blade free with a silent grunt.
The poison, Talass thought. Without the strength spell, he's weakening fast!
Without warning, someone materialized out of nowhere in the space between Tojo and Talass.
A hobgoblin, blood pouring from the hole in its chest created as Tojo pulled his wakizashi free, twitched for a few seconds and then collapsed on top of its fellow soldier that Tojo had just slain.
Talass stared for a moment at the dead creature.
The silence, she realized suddenly. That hobbie was the center point for the silence spell! How did Tojo-
But when she looked up again, she couldn't see the samurai anymore.
Six of the hobgoblin reinforcements had completely surrounded him.
Swords, some bloody and some not, glinted in the moonlight as they rose and then fell.
Thank the Bringer!
Talass' hand closed gratefully on the handle of her warhammer that she had somehow miraculously found. When she stood up again, the priestess saw another sight that gave at least a glimmer of hope to her heart.
Argo and Nesco had charged into the mass of hobgoblins, now numbering eight, which surrounded Tojo. Two of the hobbies quickly went down, but more were still pouring out of the inner courtyard. Talass joined her friends in battle, trying to catch a glimpse of the samurai inside that deadly circle.
Tojo stood at the center of a red rain. Blood was spraying in all directions as he fought with one sword in each hand. Almost as fast as one hobgoblin would drop however, another from outside would replace it. For whatever reason, orders from someone or their own rage, their enemy had decided to concentrate all their numbers on the samurai. Only when directly attacked by someone else did a given hobgoblin deviate from this pattern. Every humanoid was now screaming in full battle fury, and every scream of rage or pain was swallowed up by magic.
For just a moment, Talass and Tojo locked eyes. He too was screaming something at her. She couldn't hear, but his meaning was unmistakably clear.
He was telling them to get away.
She shook her head at him. Talass wasn't going to let him die. A surge of anger surged through the cleric's frame. Despite everything that had happened, all the grief and heartache they had just gone through with Tojo, he and Aslan had worked out an agreement. Hadn't they? Wasn't all of this was supposed to be settled once this was over? Tojo had promised Aslan, damn him! He had promised that he would... would...
The cleric gasped.
He promised that he would fight with honor.
Talass roared silently and crushed another hobgoblin's skull with a swing of her warhammer. Please Lord, don't let this happen.
Nesco was also trying to keep her eyes free from tears.
She too shook off Tojo's silent commands and shot a quick glance around the rest of the parade grounds.
Zantac was still running. First in circles and then zigzagging, the wizard was making an impressive effort at avoiding his pursuer. He was clearly tiring though, and as Cynewine watched, the red-robed mage broke out in a dead run for the east tower, their original destination.
Nesco tensed. Another hobgoblin was heading towards the wizard now. Between the two of them, they were going to cut him off.
Zantac wasn't going to make it.
Lady Cynewine gave a last look to Tojo that she hoped would tell him to hang on, and then took off .
She could only hope she'd get there in time.
Argo was actually glad to see Nesco go. The big ranger had been about to leave himself, but he would just as soon let Lady Cynewine save Zantac.
Elsewhere, the wolf-riding goblin and her entourage had stopped about thirty feet east of the stables. They seemed to be surveying the battlefield but were taking no direct action themselves.
I think we've learned that's usually a bad sign, Argo thought. Still, he couldn't spare any thought for them right now.
Bigfellow's auburn eyes roamed the grounds. They alighted on hobgoblin bodies, a discarded quarterstaff, Elrohir's petrified form, a kettle, pools of blood.
So many pools of blood.
There just wasn't time for deliberation anymore. A decision had to be made, and Argo Bigfellow Junior, who he figured had probably made more wrong decisions in his life than the rest of his friends put together, was going to make it. The only thing Argo knew for certain was that he didn't want to die while still trying to decide what to do.
Forgive me, Tojo. You'll never know how highly I thought of you.
With a muted growl- Lord, but he was getting tired of being in a silence field- Argo furiously fought past his hobbie's defenses and rammed Harve into the creature's chest.
He was already in motion again as the humanoid began to drop.
Talass had just downed another hobgoblin. She was in agony; she was exhausted. It was only a matter of time before she fell, but she couldn't stop now. There was too much at stake to-
Suddenly, a pair of strong arms encircled Talass' waist from behind. The cleric was lifted, struggling, into the air. She felt herself being carried backwards, towards the east tower. She could only gasp as she watched the circle of hobbies around Tojo grow smaller and smaller.
What the-
Talass gasped. This was impossible. She knew her vision currently wasn't very good, but she had just looked behind her a second ago, to make sure there were no enemies behind her! Argo was there, he would have seen if there were any-
Her head spun around.
"Argo! What in the Abyss are you doing?"
The big ranger had his famous pained smile on, but this time it was real. All too real.
"We're out of the silence field, my good lady, although I think you just ruptured my eardrums, so I can't really tell for sure."
Talass couldn't believe what she was hearing. Lord knows she'd had her share of fights with Argo over the years, but she'd never imagine him to literally pull her away from the most important battles of her life- and do nothing but crack jokes about it.
She screamed in rage and began flailing backwards with her warhammer, it's bloodstained surface coming dangerously close to Argo's face.
"Listen to me, Talass."
The priestess continued to struggle and scream for Bigfellow to release her.
"Listen to me, damn you!"
Talass' world suddenly spun as Argo whirled her around and threw her down to the ground at the foot of the east wall of the east tower. The impact was not hard, but every one of the cleric's numerous injuries screamed in protest, igniting a firestorm of pain. Her right hip especially was screaming for relief. She moaned and could do nothing but bring herself to a sitting position.
The door she was sitting by was partially ajar. A staircase led up from the bottom landing, with torch or lantern light visible from above. Talass gave all of it no more than a passing glance as she turned to stare upwards into Argo's face.
She had never seen Bigfellow look this serious. Every ounce of humor and lightness had been sucked out of it, revealing a countenance that she had never seen before.
It was lean, and it was frightening. It was tired and it was bloodied. It was old, and it had seen death.
And he was still looking at it.
"Talass," the ranger said quietly, "put another strength on me." He gestured wearily back towards the open ground. "It's only about twenty, twenty-five feet to Elrohir's body. I can drag it back that far. We'll try these stairs then. We may be able to find a window exit to the outer courtyard, or at least hole ourselves up somewhere for a few minutes."
Talass tried to assimilate this. Her heart was screaming for attention, but she threw it aside for the moment. Argo's words made sense. In fact, she could use the remaining strength prayers to-
The cleric nodded, slowly rising to her feet. "All right, Argo. You're right, that makes sense. I'll cast it on myself and Nesco, as well. The last of the hobbie reinforcements seem to be out there already. You bring Elrohir inside, and she and I will get Tojo-
"Talass."
She looked at him.
"Talass," he repeated, nearly whispering now.
A tear might have rolled down the big ranger's face, but there was so much blood on it, it was impossible to tell. His eyes wandered blearily over her shoulder.
"Tojo sacrificed himself so we could get ourselves out of here."
Talass looked at Argo. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. She didn't want to look.
"He's already dead."
Talass turned around.
Tojo was in fact still standing, but Talass could see it wouldn't be long now. Horrible gashes covered what little of his body she could see. The samurai was so weak he could do little but parry now. There must have been twenty hobgoblin corpses in that pile, but the remaining eight attackers were berserk with rage, preferring to die themselves than to let the loss of their comrades be in vain.
And the odd thing was, Talass could understand that.
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
"Argo! Talass!"
She whirled around, as did Bigfellow. Nesco and Zantac, sweating profusely, were staggering their way along the south wall of the tower towards them.
As they pulled up, Lady Cynewine's face took in the situation with Tojo, and her eyes went wide. She looked over to her fellow ranger and to the priestess of Forseti and saw the truth in their eyes. Her hand flew up to her mouth.
"No. Oh gods, no."
"Talass," said Argo grimly. "Start praying. Myself only. Save the others for later."
Zantac had been breathing so heavily during this time that he hadn't been able to speak, although his face shared their agony. Now he looked up, one hand still on his chest.
"Stick," he mumbled.
Talass, who had just finished casting the prayer on Argo, looked at him, her brow furrowed. "What?" she asked.
Zantac stared at her as Argo ran off.
Back in Rhizia, Talass had once seen a young boy who had come running into the temple. He had just lost his parents to a troll attack. He had seen them devoured alive.
Zantac's face looked like that now.
The mage forced the question out through sheer force of will.
"Cygnus," he said. "Where's Cygnus?"
Talass looked around. There was no sign of him. In all the confusion, she hadn't even-
"Where is he?" Zantac screamed. "Where is he?"
Nesco suddenly gasped and pointed.
Flames were visible inside the inner courtyard. The foliage was ablaze.
Now Nesco remembered where she had seen those flashes of light before.
This whole battle, Lady Cynewine had been praying for another rain of comets to come and save them.
She had thought none had come.
But three of them had.
"My god," she whispered. "He's gone."